Page 10 of Objection to Love

“Speaking of being late…” She took the final four steps to her car and grasped the door handle.

“Yeah, yeah, go on, you early bird.” He waved her forward, and she scowled.

She didn’t need his permission to get in her own car.

Em pulled the door open, hitting herself in the shoulder. She ignored the sudden pain and quickly tossed her briefcase and purse into the passenger seat before ducking to sit, narrowly avoiding hitting her head in the process. She pressed her eyes closed, willing herselfnotto look back at Garrett as she turned the ignition on. But the second she opened them, her eyes darted against her will to where he still stood, leaning against his porch railing and sipping from that mug of his.

He was still smiling, his eyes crinkling annoyingly on the sides.

Em’s scowl deepened, and she turned out of the drive too quickly, bouncing over the curb. She didn’t look at him again; he was definitely laughing at her.

She was home by eight that night, and so treated herself with a bubble bath.

Mr. Standson had agreed to the first-degree murder charge, commending her on her hard work to prepare, and they were ready to move forward with the hearing. Then they would set a trial date. Everything was moving ahead the way it should, and Em felt like celebrating. She needed ice cream or something.

Too bad it was now nine o’clock, and the small town she lived in only had one supermarket, which would close in a half hour. The ice cream parlor closed at nine. And there were no restaurants or movie theaters either.

She settled on watching one episode of an HGTV show on her computer while in bed. She didn’t even own a TV since she hadn’t been able to justify the cost. She didn’t actually own much of anything, if she was being honest.

Her phone pinged, and she lifted it to check the screen.

April: So, have you done anything about your hottie neighbor?

Em: Yes. He’s here now, and you’re interrupting our makeout session.

April: Oh, how I wish that were true.

April: Mom and Dad are having a dinner party this weekend. They want us both there.

Em frowned down at her phone. Her parents only ever hosted a dinner party when they were celebrating a major win at the firm, or when they were setting up her or April with somenice boy. April had gone and gotten married, and Em would have heard about it if they were in the middle of a big case, so that only left one option.

Em: I’m busy?

April: I haven’t even told you the day or time.

Em: I know. I’m busy.

April: 6pm. Sunday. Jackson and I will drive you.

April: Oh, and I heard he’s cute. But probably not as cute as your neighbor! *kiss emoji*

Em shook her head before setting down the phone. At least Em had April on her side to fend off whoever would be waiting at the dinner party. Their parents were never particularly involved in their lives, but when it came to their jobs or the men they dated, they were suddenly laser-focused. Em had been set up by her parents no fewer than seven times in the last year. And only one of them had warranted a second “date,” if attending an awkward dinner with her family counted as a first date.

April was lucky to have Jackson. Em needed a Jackson.

Her mind settled, against her will, on Garrett’s grinning face. What would her parents do if she showed up to this dinner party with a date of her own? A cute six-foot-and-some-change date, with broad shoulders and a lopsided smile? How would he interact with her family? Was he the kind who brought flowers and offered to do the dishes… or the kind who groaned about having to meet the parents?

Em pulled a pillow over her head. Could she smother her thoughts without smothering herself? It was worth a try. She needed to retrain her brain not to think of the guy. Which was beyond ridiculous since, less than seventy-two hours before, she hadn’t even known he existed. The last time she’d been this preoccupied with a member of the opposite sex had been in law school. Andthathadn’t gone well, so she should be even more incentivized to clear her mind of all things Garrett.

A knock at the door forced her to pull the pillow from her face. She was halfway to the front hall before she stopped. Who the heck was at her door this late? And would it be overly cautious to grab her small gun from the safe beneath her bed? Or the pepper spray from her purse?

At least if someone tried to murder her, she now had a neighbor who didn’t need hearing aids. See? She could think nicely and platonically about Garrett. Progress.

Just in case, she dialed 911 on her phone but didn’t press send. A single woman living alone had to be careful. After all, Mr. Winkles didn’t provide much protection. Even now, she was slinking around the corner into the spare room. She always chose the spare room over Em’s room. It was fine with Em. She liked to stretch out in bed.

The knock sounded again, and she took a deep breath before pulling open the door.

“Hi, neighbor.”

---